Chapter 47 Dinner with her ex
The studio lights had been relentless.
Even now, as Elena stepped out of the dressing room, she could still feel the ghost of their heat clinging to her skin. The photoshoot had taken longer than expected—smiles held for too long, poses adjusted endlessly, flashes bursting in rhythmic succession. The press had asked careful but probing questions about the wedding, about the union between two powerful families, about love disguised as strategy.
She had answered gracefully.
She always did.
Now she wore the dress she had arrived in earlier—elegant, understated, a soft ivory silk that flowed just enough to make a statement without demanding attention. She smoothed it down as she walked out, her heels echoing lightly against the polished studio floor.
Jaxon stood near the entrance, speaking in low tones with Damon. His posture was relaxed, yet commanding, as though he owned not just the room but the air within it. He looked up the moment Elena approached.
“There you are,” Damon said politely, giving her a respectful nod before stepping slightly aside.
“You should go,” Elena said calmly, her voice even. “I have somewhere else to be.”
Jaxon’s brows drew together faintly. “What are you talking about?”
“I need to go somewhere before heading to the penthouse,” she replied.
A pause followed.
“Well, how do you plan to get to wherever you are supposed to be?” Jaxon asked, his tone steady but edged with quiet authority.
“I can manage,” Elena assured him.
For a brief second, their eyes locked. There was something unreadable in his gaze—curiosity perhaps, or suspicion—but he did not press further.
Without waiting for permission or argument, she turned and walked toward the road. The evening air was cooler now, brushing gently against her skin. She lifted her hand and hailed a cab. One stopped almost immediately, as though summoned by fate rather than chance.
She entered, gave the driver the address, and as the car merged into traffic, she gradually disappeared from Jaxon’s line of sight.
The address Jordan had sent led her to one of the newest luxury hotels in the city. Its exterior was a masterpiece of modern architecture—glass panels reflecting the twilight sky, golden lights glowing warmly from within. Elena remembered hearing about its grand opening weeks ago but had never found the time to visit.
The cab stopped at the entrance. A uniformed attendant opened the door for her, and she stepped out gracefully, thanking him before walking inside.
The lobby was breathtaking.
Crystal chandeliers hung from a ceiling that seemed impossibly high, their light refracting against marble floors polished to perfection. The décor was refined yet contemporary—deep emerald accents against neutral tones, fresh orchids arranged in sculptural vases.
It did not take long to spot Jordan.
He was seated at a table near the expansive window overlooking the city. The moment he saw her approaching, he stood up immediately.
“El, I almost thought you wouldn’t show up,” he said with a relieved smile.
“I said I would show up, didn’t I?” Elena replied.
He pulled out her chair for her like a gentleman, and she sat before he resumed his seat opposite her.
“I already ordered your favorite,” Jordan said.
“Oh. Thank you,” Elena answered, genuinely touched.
“What do you think of the place?” Jordan asked, glancing around. “I heard it’s new.”
“Same here,” Elena said. “I always wanted to check it out. I must say, their décor is exquisite.”
Just then, the waiter arrived, placing their meals carefully before them. The aroma alone was inviting.
“Let’s see if their food is as exquisite as their décor,” Jordan said lightly.
They tasted the meal—and it was delicious. Perfectly seasoned, delicately plated, each bite a quiet indulgence.
For a while, they ate and talked like old friends.
They spoke about college memories, mutual acquaintances, missed opportunities, the way life had shifted in unexpected directions. Jordan listened intently when she spoke about her work, her ambitions. There was familiarity in his gaze—an old warmth that once felt safe.
Then the air changed.
“Elena,” Jordan began more seriously, setting down his fork. “You know I still love you.”
The words lingered between them.
“Let’s go back to the way we were.”
Elena’s fingers tightened slightly around her glass.
“No, Jordan,” she said quietly but firmly. “We were over. I thought I made it clear then. I thought we understood each other.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “But I made a mistake. And I will hate myself for it forever. Please… come back to me.”
There was vulnerability in his voice, but it did not move her the way it once might have.
“That can’t happen,” she said.
“Why is that?” he pressed.
“I’m engaged,” Elena replied evenly. “I’m getting married in two weeks. I’ve moved on. And you should too.”
Jordan leaned back slightly, absorbing her words. “Who is he?”
Elena glanced toward her bag. “I think it’s pretty late. I should get going.”
“Wait,” Jordan said quickly. “I hope what I said doesn’t make you want to stop associating with me.”
“That depends on you now,” she replied, standing.
“Goodnight, El,” he said, stepping forward as though to embrace her.
She stepped back gently.
“It’s Elena,” she corrected, extending her hand instead.
Jordan hesitated for half a second before taking it. The handshake was polite. Final.
She turned and walked away without looking back.
Jordan remained standing, watching her retreating figure until she disappeared beyond the glass doors.
Outside, the night air felt sharper.
Elena paused briefly on the pavement, drawing in a steady breath. The city lights flickered around her, cars passing in steady streams. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel the weight of what had just happened.
Jordan represented her past.
She had caught him having sex with his assistant before she broke up with him and returned to LA.
Her phone buzzed in her hand.
A message.
From Jaxon.
It's getting late?
Elena stared at the screen for a moment before hailing for a cab.
The ride back to the penthouse had been quiet.
When she finally stepped inside the penthouse, the familiar warmth of the space wrapped around her. The soft amber lighting, the faint scent of lavender from the diffusers, the distant hum of the city below — it all felt steady compared to the emotional turbulence of the evening.
She walked into the sitting room and lowered herself onto the couch, releasing a long breath she did not realize she had been holding.
“Elena, welcome back. Are you alright?” Ms. Julie’s gentle voice came from the hallway as she stepped in and noticed Elena’s tired expression.
“I’m alright, Ms. Julie,” Elena replied softly.
“Do you want me to heat up something for you to eat?”
“No, please. I already had something.”
There was a brief pause as Ms. Julie studied her face — the faint tension around her eyes, the exhaustion she tried to mask.
“Okay,” Ms. Julie said gently.
“Yeah… I’ll go freshen up. You should go rest too,” Elena added as she picked up her bag.
“Yeah, I will.”
Elena walked toward her room, each step slower than the last. Once inside, she closed the door quietly behind her. The room felt still, private — her only true refuge.
She removed her clothes without haste and slipped into the bathtub, allowing the warm water to envelop her completely. The heat loosened the stiffness in her shoulders. She placed her headphones over her ears and turned the music up — loud enough to drown out the world.
Her eyes drifted closed.
Thirty minutes passed.
The music pounded through her ears, and her thoughts spiraled. Jordan’s confession replayed in her mind. His voice. His regret. The past knocking gently at doors she had locked long ago.
Why?
A knock sounded faintly at her bedroom door.
She didn’t hear it.
The knock came again — firmer this time.
Still nothing.
“Elena!” Jaxon’s voice echoed from outside the room, sharper now.
No response.
His knock grew louder.
Concern began to override composure.
“Elena!” he called again, pounding harder.
When there was still no answer, his worry escalated. His mind began forming possibilities — none of them pleasant. He remembered Ms. Julie mentioning that Elena had gone to freshen up.
What if she slipped? What if she fainted?
Without thinking further, he pushed the door open.
He was crossing a boundary.
“Elena!” he called as he stepped inside.
The room was empty, but her clothes were scattered across the floor. His pulse quickened.
He moved toward the bathroom and, driven entirely by instinct, pulled the curtain aside.
“Elena—”
His words stopped abruptly.
She was in the bathtub.
Her eyes flew open, startled. She quickly removed her headphones and instinctively sank deeper into the water, leaving only her head visible above the surface.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, shock and irritation mixing in her voice.
Jaxon immediately turned his face away, raising his hands to shield his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I came to speak to you. I knocked, but you didn’t answer. I thought something had happened.”
“You shouldn’t have come into my room,” Elena replied, her voice steadier now. “What do you want?”
She reached for her towel and stood, wrapping it securely around herself.
“Are you covered?” Jaxon asked cautiously, still facing away.
“You can look,” she said.
He slowly lowered his hands and turned back toward her. She stood before him wrapped in a white towel, water droplets tracing faint lines along her shoulders. He kept his gaze respectfully elevated, careful not to let it linger where it shouldn’t.
“It’s about the DNA test,” he said, regaining his composed tone. “It’s tomorrow. Two weeks, you said, right?”
“Yes,” she answered. “When I’m done, I’ll call the doctor. And you should also call Maya. Tell her to meet us at the restaurant.”
“Sure.”
There was a brief silence — heavier now that the initial panic had subsided.
“I’ll go now,” he said.
He stepped out of the bathroom, then out of her room entirely, closing the door gently behind him.
Once outside, he leaned his back against the door and exhaled.
His heart was still beating faster than it should have been.
It had not been desire that drove him in.
It had been fear.
And that realization unsettled him more than anything else.
Inside the room, Elena stood still for a moment, listening to the quiet that followed his departure.
Her pulse had quickened too — but for different reasons.